BOOK XI

Lord, since eternity is Thine, art Thou ignorant of what I say to Thee?

or dost Thou see in time, what passeth in time? Why then do I lay in

order before Thee so many relations? Not, of a truth, that Thou mightest

learn them through me, but to stir up mine own and my readers' devotions

towards Thee, that we may all say, Great is the Lord, and greatly to be

praised. I have said already; and again will say, for love of Thy

love do I this. For we pray also, and yet Truth hath said, Your Father

knoweth what you have need of, before you ask. It is then our affections

which we lay open unto Thee, confessing our own miseries, and Thy

mercies upon us, that Thou mayest free us wholly, since Thou hast begun,

that we may cease to be wretched in ourselves, and be blessed in Thee;

seeing Thou hast called us, to become poor in spirit, and meek, and

mourners, and hungering and athirst after righteousness, and merciful,

and pure in heart, and peace-makers. See, I have told Thee many things,

as I could and as I would, because Thou first wouldest that I should

confess unto Thee, my Lord God. For Thou art good, for Thy mercy

endureth for ever.

But how shall I suffice with the tongue of my pen to utter all Thy

exhortations, and all Thy terrors, and comforts, and guidances, whereby

Thou broughtest me to preach Thy Word, and dispense Thy Sacrament to Thy

people? And if I suffice to utter them in order, the drops of time are

precious with me; and long have I burned to meditate in Thy law, and

therein to confess to Thee my skill and unskilfulness, the day-break of

Thy enlightening, and the remnants of my darkness, until infirmity be

swallowed up by strength. And I would not have aught besides steal away

those hours which I find free from the necessities of refreshing my body

and the powers of my mind, and of the service which we owe to men, or

which though we owe not, we yet pay.

O Lord my God, give ear unto my prayer, and let Thy mercy hearken unto

my desire: because it is anxious not for myself alone, but would serve

brotherly charity; and Thou seest my heart, that so it is. I would

sacrifice to Thee the service of my thought and tongue; do Thou give me,

what I may offer Thee. For I am poor and needy, Thou rich to all that

call upon Thee; Who, inaccessible to care, carest for us. Circumcise

from all rashness and all lying both my inward and outward lips: let

Thy Scriptures be my pure delights: let me not be deceived in them, nor

deceive out of them. Lord, hearken and pity, O Lord my God, Light of the

blind, and Strength of the weak; yea also Light of those that see, and

Strength of the strong; hearken unto my soul, and hear it crying out of

the depths. For if Thine ears be not with us in the depths also, whither

shall we go? whither cry? The day is Thine, and the night is Thine; at

Thy beck the moments flee by. Grant thereof a space for our meditations

in the hidden things of Thy law, and close it not against us who knock.

For not in vain wouldest Thou have the darksome secrets of so many pages

written; nor are those forests without their harts which retire therein

and range and walk; feed, lie down, and ruminate. Perfect me, O

Lord, and reveal them unto me. Behold, Thy voice is my joy; Thy voice

exceedeth the abundance of pleasures. Give what I love: for I do love;

and this hast Thou given: forsake not Thy own gifts, nor despise Thy

green herb that thirsteth. Let me confess unto Thee whatsoever I shall

find in Thy books, and hear the voice of praise, and drink in Thee,

and meditate on the wonderful things out of Thy law; even from the

beginning, wherein Thou madest the heaven and the earth, unto the

everlasting reigning of Thy holy city with Thee.

Lord, have mercy on me, and hear my desire. For it is not, I deem, of

the earth, not of gold and silver, and precious stones, or gorgeous

apparel, or honours and offices, or the pleasures of the flesh, or

necessaries for the body and for this life of our pilgrimage: all which

shall be added unto those that seek Thy kingdom and Thy righteousness.

Behold, O Lord my God, wherein is my desire. The wicked have told me of

delights, but not such as Thy law, O Lord. Behold, wherein is my desire.

Behold, Father, behold, and see and approve; and be it pleasing in the

sight of Thy mercy, that I may find grace before Thee, that the inward

parts of Thy words be opened to me knocking. I beseech by our Lord Jesus

Christ Thy Son, the Man of Thy right hand, the Son of man, whom Thou

hast established for Thyself, as Thy Mediator and ours, through Whom

Thou soughtest us, not seeking Thee, but soughtest us, that we might

seek Thee,--Thy Word, through Whom Thou madest all things, and among

them, me also;--Thy Only-Begotten, through Whom Thou calledst to

adoption the believing people, and therein me also;--I beseech Thee by

Him, who sitteth at Thy right hand, and intercedeth with Thee for us,

in Whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. These do

I seek in Thy books. Of Him did Moses write; this saith Himself; this

saith the Truth.

I would hear and understand, how "In the Beginning Thou madest the

heaven and earth." Moses wrote this, wrote and departed, passed hence

from Thee to Thee; nor is he now before me. For if he were, I would hold

him and ask him, and beseech him by Thee to open these things unto me,

and would lay the ears of my body to the sounds bursting out of his

mouth. And should he speak Hebrew, in vain will it strike on my senses,

nor would aught of it touch my mind; but if Latin, I should know what

he said. But whence should I know, whether he spake truth? Yea, and if

I knew this also, should I know it from him? Truly within me, within, in

the chamber of my thoughts, Truth, neither Hebrew, nor Greek, nor Latin,

nor barbarian, without organs of voice or tongue, or sound of syllables,

would say, "It is truth," and I forthwith should say confidently to that

man of Thine, "thou sayest truly." Whereas then I cannot enquire of him,

Thee, Thee I beseech, O Truth, full of Whom he spake truth, Thee, my

God, I beseech, forgive my sins; and Thou, who gavest him Thy servant to

speak these things, give to me also to understand them.

Behold, the heavens and the earth are; they proclaim that they were

created; for they change and vary. Whereas whatsoever hath not been

made, and yet is, hath nothing in it, which before it had not; and

this it is, to change and vary. They proclaim also, that they made not

themselves; "therefore we are, because we have been made; we were not

therefore, before we were, so as to make ourselves." Now the evidence

of the thing, is the voice of the speakers. Thou therefore, Lord, madest

them; who art beautiful, for they are beautiful; who art good, for they

are good; who art, for they are; yet are they not beautiful nor good,

nor are they, as Thou their Creator art; compared with Whom, they are

neither beautiful, nor good, nor are. This we know, thanks be to Thee.

And our knowledge, compared with Thy knowledge, is ignorance.

But how didst Thou make the heaven and the earth? and what the engine of

Thy so mighty fabric? For it was not as a human artificer, forming one

body from another, according to the discretion of his mind, which can

in some way invest with such a form, as it seeth in itself by its inward

eye. And whence should he be able to do this, unless Thou hadst made

that mind? and he invests with a form what already existeth, and hath

a being, as clay, or stone, or wood, or gold, or the like. And whence

should they be, hadst not Thou appointed them? Thou madest the artificer

his body, Thou the mind commanding the limbs, Thou the matter whereof he

makes any thing; Thou the apprehension whereby to take in his art, and

see within what he doth without; Thou the sense of his body, whereby,

as by an interpreter, he may from mind to matter, convey that which he

doth, and report to his mind what is done; that it within may consult

the truth, which presideth over itself, whether it be well done or no.

All these praise Thee, the Creator of all. But how dost Thou make them?

how, O God, didst Thou make heaven and earth? Verily, neither in the

heaven, nor in the earth, didst Thou make heaven and earth; nor in the

air, or waters, seeing these also belong to the heaven and the earth;

nor in the whole world didst Thou make the whole world; because there

was no place where to make it, before it was made, that it might be. Nor

didst Thou hold any thing in Thy hand, whereof to make heaven and earth.

For whence shouldest Thou have this, which Thou hadst not made, thereof

to make any thing? For what is, but because Thou art? Therefore Thou

spokest, and they were made, and in Thy Word Thou madest them.

But how didst Thou speak? In the way that the voice came out of the

cloud, saying, This is my beloved Son? For that voice passed by and

passed away, began and ended; the syllables sounded and passed away,

the second after the first, the third after the second, and so forth in

order, until the last after the rest, and silence after the last. Whence

it is abundantly clear and plain that the motion of a creature expressed

it, itself temporal, serving Thy eternal will. And these Thy words,

created for a time, the outward ear reported to the intelligent soul,

whose inward ear lay listening to Thy Eternal Word. But she compared

these words sounding in time, with that Thy Eternal Word in silence, and

said "It is different, far different. These words are far beneath me,

nor are they, because they flee and pass away; but the Word of my Lord

abideth above me for ever." If then in sounding and passing words Thou

saidst that heaven and earth should be made, and so madest heaven and

earth, there was a corporeal creature before heaven and earth, by whose

motions in time that voice might take his course in time. But there was

nought corporeal before heaven and earth; or if there were, surely Thou

hadst, without such a passing voice, created that, whereof to make this

passing voice, by which to say, Let the heaven and the earth be made.

For whatsoever that were, whereof such a voice were made, unless by

Thee it were made, it could not be at all. By what Word then didst Thou

speak, that a body might be made, whereby these words again might be

made?

Thou callest us then to understand the Word, God, with Thee God, Which

is spoken eternally, and by It are all things spoken eternally. For what

was spoken was not spoken successively, one thing concluded that the

next might be spoken, but all things together and eternally. Else have

we time and change; and not a true eternity nor true immortality. This I

know, O my God, and give thanks. I know, I confess to Thee, O Lord, and

with me there knows and blesses Thee, whoso is not unthankful to assure

Truth. We know, Lord, we know; since inasmuch as anything is not which

was, and is, which was not, so far forth it dieth and ariseth. Nothing

then of Thy Word doth give place or replace, because It is truly

immortal and eternal. And therefore unto the Word coeternal with Thee

Thou dost at once and eternally say all that Thou dost say; and whatever

Thou sayest shall be made is made; nor dost Thou make, otherwise than by

saying; and yet are not all things made together, or everlasting, which

Thou makest by saying.

Why, I beseech Thee, O Lord my God? I see it in a way; but how to

express it, I know not, unless it be, that whatsoever begins to be, and

leaves off to be, begins then, and leaves off then, when in Thy eternal

Reason it is known, that it ought to begin or leave off; in which Reason

nothing beginneth or leaveth off. This is Thy Word, which is also "the

Beginning, because also It speaketh unto us." Thus in the Gospel He

speaketh through the flesh; and this sounded outwardly in the ears of

men; that it might be believed and sought inwardly, and found in

the eternal Verity; where the good and only Master teacheth all His

disciples. There, Lord, hear I Thy voice speaking unto me; because He

speaketh us, who teacheth us; but He that teacheth us not, though

He speaketh, to us He speaketh not. Who now teacheth us, but the

unchangeable Truth? for even when we are admonished through a changeable

creature; we are but led to the unchangeable Truth; where we learn

truly, while we stand and hear Him, and rejoice greatly because of the

Bridegroom's voice, restoring us to Him, from Whom we are. And therefore

the Beginning, because unless It abided, there should not, when we

went astray, be whither to return. But when we return from error, it is

through knowing; and that we may know, He teacheth us, because He is the

Beginning, and speaking unto us.

In this Beginning, O God, hast Thou made heaven and earth, in Thy

Word, in Thy Son, in Thy Power, in Thy Wisdom, in Thy Truth; wondrously

speaking, and wondrously making. Who shall comprehend? Who declare

it? What is that which gleams through me, and strikes my heart without

hurting it; and I shudder and kindle? I shudder, inasmuch as I am unlike

it; I kindle, inasmuch as I am like it. It is Wisdom, Wisdom's self

which gleameth through me; severing my cloudiness which yet again

mantles over me, fainting from it, through the darkness which for my

punishment gathers upon me. For my strength is brought down in need,

so that I cannot support my blessings, till Thou, Lord, Who hast been

gracious to all mine iniquities, shalt heal all my infirmities. For

Thou shalt also redeem my life from corruption, and crown me with loving

kindness and tender mercies, and shalt satisfy my desire with good

things, because my youth shall be renewed like an eagle's. For in hope

we are saved, wherefore we through patience wait for Thy promises. Let

him that is able, hear Thee inwardly discoursing out of Thy oracle: I

will boldly cry out, How wonderful are Thy works, O Lord, in Wisdom

hast Thou made them all; and this Wisdom is the Beginning, and in that

Beginning didst Thou make heaven and earth.

Lo, are they not full of their old leaven, who say to us, "What was

God doing before He made heaven and earth? For if (say they) He were

unemployed and wrought not, why does He not also henceforth, and for

ever, as He did heretofore? For did any new motion arise in God, and a

new will to make a creature, which He had never before made, how then

would that be a true eternity, where there ariseth a will, which was

not? For the will of God is not a creature, but before the creature;

seeing nothing could be created, unless the will of the Creator had

preceded. The will of God then belongeth to His very Substance. And

if aught have arisen in God's Substance, which before was not, that

Substance cannot be truly called eternal. But if the will of God has

been from eternity that the creature should be, why was not the creature

also from eternity?"

Who speak thus, do not yet understand Thee, O Wisdom of God, Light of

souls, understand not yet how the things be made, which by Thee, and

in Thee are made: yet they strive to comprehend things eternal, whilst

their heart fluttereth between the motions of things past and to come,

and is still unstable. Who shall hold it, and fix it, that it be settled

awhile, and awhile catch the glory of that ever-fixed Eternity, and

compare it with the times which are never fixed, and see that it cannot

be compared; and that a long time cannot become long, but out of many

motions passing by, which cannot be prolonged altogether; but that in

the Eternal nothing passeth, but the whole is present; whereas no time

is all at once present: and that all time past, is driven on by time to

come, and all to come followeth upon the past; and all past and to come,

is created, and flows out of that which is ever present? Who shall hold

the heart of man, that it may stand still, and see how eternity ever

still-standing, neither past nor to come, uttereth the times past and to

come? Can my hand do this, or the hand of my mouth by speech bring about

a thing so great?

See, I answer him that asketh, "What did God before He made heaven and

earth?" I answer not as one is said to have done merrily (eluding the

pressure of the question), "He was preparing hell (saith he) for pryers

into mysteries." It is one thing to answer enquiries, another to make

sport of enquirers. So I answer not; for rather had I answer, "I know

not," what I know not, than so as to raise a laugh at him who asketh

deep things and gain praise for one who answereth false things. But I

say that Thou, our God, art the Creator of every creature: and if by

the name "heaven and earth," every creature be understood; I boldly say,

"that before God made heaven and earth, He did not make any thing." For

if He made, what did He make but a creature? And would I knew whatsoever

I desire to know to my profit, as I know, that no creature was made,

before there was made any creature.

But if any excursive brain rove over the images of forepassed times, and

wonder that Thou the God Almighty and All-creating and All-supporting,

Maker of heaven and earth, didst for innumerable ages forbear from so

great a work, before Thou wouldest make it; let him awake and consider,

that he wonders at false conceits. For whence could innumerable ages

pass by, which Thou madest not, Thou the Author and Creator of all

ages? or what times should there be, which were not made by Thee? or

how should they pass by, if they never were? Seeing then Thou art the

Creator of all times, if any time was before Thou madest heaven and

earth, why say they that Thou didst forego working? For that very time

didst Thou make, nor could times pass by, before Thou madest those

times. But if before heaven and earth there was no time, why is it

demanded, what Thou then didst? For there was no "then," when there was

no time.

Nor dost Thou by time, precede time: else shouldest Thou not precede

all times. But Thou precedest all things past, by the sublimity of

an ever-present eternity; and surpassest all future because they are

future, and when they come, they shall be past; but Thou art the Same,

and Thy years fail not. Thy years neither come nor go; whereas ours both

come and go, that they all may come. Thy years stand together, because

they do stand; nor are departing thrust out by coming years, for they

pass not away; but ours shall all be, when they shall no more be. Thy

years are one day; and Thy day is not daily, but To-day, seeing Thy

To-day gives not place unto tomorrow, for neither doth it replace

yesterday. Thy To-day, is Eternity; therefore didst Thou beget The

Coeternal, to whom Thou saidst, This day have I begotten Thee. Thou hast

made all things; and before all times Thou art: neither in any time was

time not.

At no time then hadst Thou not made any thing, because time itself Thou

madest. And no times are coeternal with Thee, because Thou abidest;

but if they abode, they should not be times. For what is time? Who can

readily and briefly explain this? Who can even in thought comprehend it,

so as to utter a word about it? But what in discourse do we mention more

familiarly and knowingly, than time? And, we understand, when we speak

of it; we understand also, when we hear it spoken of by another. What

then is time? If no one asks me, I know: if I wish to explain it to one

that asketh, I know not: yet I say boldly that I know, that if nothing

passed away, time past were not; and if nothing were coming, a time to

come were not; and if nothing were, time present were not. Those two

times then, past and to come, how are they, seeing the past now is

not, and that to come is not yet? But the present, should it always be

present, and never pass into time past, verily it should not be time,

but eternity. If time present (if it is to be time) only cometh into

existence, because it passeth into time past, how can we say that either

this is, whose cause of being is, that it shall not be; so, namely, that

we cannot truly say that time is, but because it is tending not to be?

And yet we say, "a long time" and "a short time"; still, only of time

past or to come. A long time past (for example) we call an hundred years

since; and a long time to come, an hundred years hence. But a short

time past, we call (suppose) often days since; and a short time to come,

often days hence. But in what sense is that long or short, which is not?

For the past, is not now; and the future, is not yet. Let us not then

say, "it is long"; but of the past, "it hath been long"; and of the

future, "it will be long." O my Lord, my Light, shall not here also Thy

Truth mock at man? For that past time which was long, was it long when

it was now past, or when it was yet present? For then might it be long,

when there was, what could be long; but when past, it was no longer;

wherefore neither could that be long, which was not at all. Let us not

then say, "time past hath been long": for we shall not find, what hath

been long, seeing that since it was past, it is no more, but let us say,

"that present time was long"; because, when it was present, it was long.

For it had not yet passed away, so as not to be; and therefore there

was, what could be long; but after it was past, that ceased also to be

long, which ceased to be.

Let us see then, thou soul of man, whether present time can be long:

for to thee it is given to feel and to measure length of time. What wilt

thou answer me? Are an hundred years, when present, a long time? See

first, whether an hundred years can be present. For if the first of

these years be now current, it is present, but the other ninety and

nine are to come, and therefore are not yet, but if the second year be

current, one is now past, another present, the rest to come. And so if

we assume any middle year of this hundred to be present, all before it,

are past; all after it, to come; wherefore an hundred years cannot be

present. But see at least whether that one which is now current, itself

is present; for if the current month be its first, the rest are to come;

if the second, the first is already past, and the rest are not yet.

Therefore, neither is the year now current present; and if not present

as a whole, then is not the year present. For twelve months are a year;

of which whatever by the current month is present; the rest past, or to

come. Although neither is that current month present; but one day only;

the rest being to come, if it be the first; past, if the last; if any of

the middle, then amid past and to come.

See how the present time, which alone we found could be called long, is

abridged to the length scarce of one day. But let us examine that also;

because neither is one day present as a whole. For it is made up of four

and twenty hours of night and day: of which, the first hath the rest to

come; the last hath them past; and any of the middle hath those before

it past, those behind it to come. Yea, that one hour passeth away in

flying particles. Whatsoever of it hath flown away, is past; whatsoever

remaineth, is to come. If an instant of time be conceived, which cannot

be divided into the smallest particles of moments, that alone is it,

which may be called present. Which yet flies with such speed from future

to past, as not to be lengthened out with the least stay. For if it be,

it is divided into past and future. The present hath no space. Where

then is the time, which we may call long? Is it to come? Of it we do not

say, "it is long"; because it is not yet, so as to be long; but we say,

"it will be long." When therefore will it be? For if even then, when it

is yet to come, it shall not be long (because what can be long, as yet

is not), and so it shall then be long, when from future which as yet is

not, it shall begin now to be, and have become present, that so there

should exist what may be long; then does time present cry out in the

words above, that it cannot be long.

And yet, Lord, we perceive intervals of times, and compare them, and

say, some are shorter, and others longer. We measure also, how much

longer or shorter this time is than that; and we answer, "This is

double, or treble; and that, but once, or only just so much as that."

But we measure times as they are passing, by perceiving them; but past,

which now are not, or the future, which are not yet, who can measure?

unless a man shall presume to say, that can be measured, which is not.

When then time is passing, it may be perceived and measured; but when it

is past, it cannot, because it is not.

I ask, Father, I affirm not: O my God, rule and guide me. "Who will tell

me that there are not three times (as we learned when boys, and taught

boys), past, present, and future; but present only, because those two

are not? Or are they also; and when from future it becometh present,

doth it come out of some secret place; and so, when retiring, from

present it becometh past? For where did they, who foretold things to

come, see them, if as yet they be not? For that which is not, cannot be

seen. And they who relate things past, could not relate them, if in mind

they did not discern them, and if they were not, they could no way be

discerned. Things then past and to come, are."

Permit me, Lord, to seek further. O my hope, let not my purpose be

confounded. For if times past and to come be, I would know where they

be. Which yet if I cannot, yet I know, wherever they be, they are not

there as future, or past, but present. For if there also they be future,

they are not yet there; if there also they be past, they are no longer

there. Wheresoever then is whatsoever is, it is only as present.

Although when past facts are related, there are drawn out of the memory,

not the things themselves which are past, but words which, conceived by

the images of the things, they, in passing, have through the senses left

as traces in the mind. Thus my childhood, which now is not, is in time

past, which now is not: but now when I recall its image, and tell of it,

I behold it in the present, because it is still in my memory. Whether

there be a like cause of foretelling things to come also; that of

things which as yet are not, the images may be perceived before, already

existing, I confess, O my God, I know not. This indeed I know, that we

generally think before on our future actions, and that that forethinking

is present, but the action whereof we forethink is not yet, because it

is to come. Which, when we have set upon, and have begun to do what

we were forethinking, then shall that action be; because then it is no

longer future, but present.

Which way soever then this secret fore-perceiving of things to come be;

that only can be seen, which is. But what now is, is not future,

but present. When then things to come are said to be seen, it is not

themselves which as yet are not (that is, which are to be), but their

causes perchance or signs are seen, which already are. Therefore they

are not future but present to those who now see that, from which

the future, being foreconceived in the mind, is foretold. Which

fore-conceptions again now are; and those who foretell those things, do

behold the conceptions present before them. Let now the numerous variety

of things furnish me some example. I behold the day-break, I foreshow,

that the sun, is about to rise. What I behold, is present; what I

foresignify, to come; not the sun, which already is; but the sun-rising,

which is not yet. And yet did I not in my mind imagine the sun-rising

itself (as now while I speak of it), I could not foretell it. But

neither is that day-break which I discern in the sky, the sun-rising,

although it goes before it; nor that imagination of my mind; which two

are seen now present, that the other which is to be may be foretold.

Future things then are not yet: and if they be not yet, they are not:

and if they are not, they cannot be seen; yet foretold they may be from

things present, which are already, and are seen.

Thou then, Ruler of Thy creation, by what way dost Thou teach souls

things to come? For Thou didst teach Thy Prophets. By what way dost

Thou, to whom nothing is to come, teach things to come; or rather of the

future, dost teach things present? For, what is not, neither can it be

taught. Too far is this way of my ken: it is too mighty for me, I cannot

attain unto it; but from Thee I can, when Thou shalt vouchsafe it, O

sweet light of my hidden eyes.

What now is clear and plain is, that neither things to come nor past

are. Nor is it properly said, "there be three times, past, present,

and to come": yet perchance it might be properly said, "there be three

times; a present of things past, a present of things present, and a

present of things future." For these three do exist in some sort, in the

soul, but otherwhere do I not see them; present of things past, memory;

present of things present, sight; present of things future, expectation.

If thus we be permitted to speak, I see three times, and I confess there

are three. Let it be said too, "there be three times, past, present, and

to come": in our incorrect way. See, I object not, nor gainsay, nor find

fault, if what is so said be but understood, that neither what is to be,

now is, nor what is past. For but few things are there, which we

speak properly, most things improperly; still the things intended are

understood.

I said then even now, we measure times as they pass, in order to be able

to say, this time is twice so much as that one; or, this is just so

much as that; and so of any other parts of time, which be measurable.

Wherefore, as I said, we measure times as they pass. And if any should

ask me, "How knowest thou?" I might answer, "I know, that we do measure,

nor can we measure things that are not; and things past and to come, are

not." But time present how do we measure, seeing it hath no space? It

is measured while passing, but when it shall have passed, it is not

measured; for there will be nothing to be measured. But whence, by what

way, and whither passes it while it is a measuring? whence, but from the

future? Which way, but through the present? whither, but into the past?

From that therefore, which is not yet, through that, which hath no

space, into that, which now is not. Yet what do we measure, if not time

in some space? For we do not say, single, and double, and triple, and

equal, or any other like way that we speak of time, except of spaces

of times. In what space then do we measure time passing? In the future,

whence it passeth through? But what is not yet, we measure not. Or in

the present, by which it passes? but no space, we do not measure: or in

the past, to which it passes? But neither do we measure that, which now

is not.

My soul is on fire to know this most intricate enigma. Shut it not up, O

Lord my God, good Father; through Christ I beseech Thee, do not shut up

these usual, yet hidden things, from my desire, that it be hindered from

piercing into them; but let them dawn through Thy enlightening mercy, O

Lord. Whom shall I enquire of concerning these things? and to whom shall

I more fruitfully confess my ignorance, than to Thee, to Whom these

my studies, so vehemently kindled toward Thy Scriptures, are not

troublesome? Give what I love; for I do love, and this hast Thou

given me. Give, Father, Who truly knowest to give good gifts unto Thy

children. Give, because I have taken upon me to know, and trouble is

before me until Thou openest it. By Christ I beseech Thee, in His Name,

Holy of holies, let no man disturb me. For I believed, and therefore do

I speak. This is my hope, for this do I live, that I may contemplate the

delights of the Lord. Behold, Thou hast made my days old, and they pass

away, and how, I know not. And we talk of time, and time, and times, and

times, "How long time is it since he said this"; "how long time since he

did this"; and "how long time since I saw that"; and "this syllable hath

double time to that single short syllable." These words we speak, and

these we hear, and are understood, and understand. Most manifest and

ordinary they are, and the self-same things again are but too deeply

hidden, and the discovery of them were new.

I heard once from a learned man, that the motions of the sun, moon,

and stars, constituted time, and I assented not. For why should not

the motions of all bodies rather be times? Or, if the lights of heaven

should cease, and a potter's wheel run round, should there be no time

by which we might measure those whirlings, and say, that either it

moved with equal pauses, or if it turned sometimes slower, otherwhiles

quicker, that some rounds were longer, other shorter? Or, while we were

saying this, should we not also be speaking in time? Or, should there

in our words be some syllables short, others long, but because those

sounded in a shorter time, these in a longer? God, grant to men to see

in a small thing notices common to things great and small. The stars and

lights of heaven, are also for signs, and for seasons, and for years,

and for days; they are; yet neither should I say, that the going round

of that wooden wheel was a day, nor yet he, that it was therefore no

time.

I desire to know the force and nature of time, by which we measure the

motions of bodies, and say (for example) this motion is twice as long as

that. For I ask, Seeing "day" denotes not the stay only of the sun upon

the earth (according to which day is one thing, night another); but also

its whole circuit from east to east again; according to which we say,

"there passed so many days," the night being included when we say, "so

many days," and the nights not reckoned apart;--seeing then a day is

completed by the motion of the sun and by his circuit from east to east

again, I ask, does the motion alone make the day, or the stay in which

that motion is completed, or both? For if the first be the day; then

should we have a day, although the sun should finish that course in so

small a space of time, as one hour comes to. If the second, then should

not that make a day, if between one sun-rise and another there were

but so short a stay, as one hour comes to; but the sun must go four and

twenty times about, to complete one day. If both, then neither could

that be called a day; if the sun should run his whole round in the

space of one hour; nor that, if, while the sun stood still, so much

time should overpass, as the sun usually makes his whole course in, from

morning to morning. I will not therefore now ask, what that is which is

called day; but, what time is, whereby we, measuring the circuit of the

sun, should say that it was finished in half the time it was wont, if

so be it was finished in so small a space as twelve hours; and comparing

both times, should call this a single time, that a double time; even

supposing the sun to run his round from east to east, sometimes in that

single, sometimes in that double time. Let no man then tell me, that the

motions of the heavenly bodies constitute times, because, when at

the prayer of one, the sun had stood still, till he could achieve his

victorious battle, the sun stood still, but time went on. For in its own

allotted space of time was that battle waged and ended. I perceive

time then to be a certain extension. But do I perceive it, or seem to

perceive it? Thou, Light and Truth, wilt show me.

Dost Thou bid me assent, if any define time to be "motion of a body?"

Thou dost not bid me. For that no body is moved, but in time, I hear;

this Thou sayest; but that the motion of a body is time, I hear not;

Thou sayest it not. For when a body is moved, I by time measure, how

long it moveth, from the time it began to move until it left off? And if

I did not see whence it began; and it continue to move so that I see not

when it ends, I cannot measure, save perchance from the time I began,

until I cease to see. And if I look long, I can only pronounce it to be

a long time, but not how long; because when we say "how long," we do

it by comparison; as, "this is as long as that," or "twice so long as

that," or the like. But when we can mark the distances of the places,

whence and whither goeth the body moved, or his parts, if it moved as in

a lathe, then can we say precisely, in how much time the motion of

that body or his part, from this place unto that, was finished. Seeing

therefore the motion of a body is one thing, that by which we measure

how long it is, another; who sees not, which of the two is rather to

be called time? For and if a body be sometimes moved, sometimes stands

still, then we measure, not his motion only, but his standing still too

by time; and we say, "it stood still, as much as it moved"; or "it stood

still twice or thrice so long as it moved"; or any other space which our

measuring hath either ascertained, or guessed; more or less, as we use

to say. Time then is not the motion of a body.

And I confess to Thee, O Lord, that I yet know not what time is, and

again I confess unto Thee, O Lord, that I know that I speak this in

time, and that having long spoken of time, that very "long" is not long,

but by the pause of time. How then know I this, seeing I know not what

time is? or is it perchance that I know not how to express what I know?

Woe is me, that do not even know, what I know not. Behold, O my God,

before Thee I lie not; but as I speak, so is my heart. Thou shalt light

my candle; Thou, O Lord my God, wilt enlighten my darkness.

Does not my soul most truly confess unto Thee, that I do measure times?

Do I then measure, O my God, and know not what I measure? I measure the

motion of a body in time; and the time itself do I not measure? Or could

I indeed measure the motion of a body how long it were, and in how long

space it could come from this place to that, without measuring the time

in which it is moved? This same time then, how do I measure? do we by a

shorter time measure a longer, as by the space of a cubit, the space

of a rood? for so indeed we seem by the space of a short syllable, to

measure the space of a long syllable, and to say that this is double

the other. Thus measure we the spaces of stanzas, by the spaces of the

verses, and the spaces of the verses, by the spaces of the feet, and the

spaces of the feet, by the spaces of the syllables, and the spaces of

long, by the space of short syllables; not measuring by pages (for then

we measure spaces, not times); but when we utter the words and they pass

by, and we say "it is a long stanza, because composed of so many verses;

long verses, because consisting of so many feet; long feet, because

prolonged by so many syllables; a long syllable because double to a

short one." But neither do we this way obtain any certain measure of

time; because it may be, that a shorter verse, pronounced more fully,

may take up more time than a longer, pronounced hurriedly. And so for a

verse, a foot, a syllable. Whence it seemed to me, that time is nothing

else than protraction; but of what, I know not; and I marvel, if it

be not of the mind itself? For what, I beseech Thee, O my God, do I

measure, when I say, either indefinitely "this is a longer time than

that," or definitely "this is double that"? That I measure time, I know;

and yet I measure not time to come, for it is not yet; nor present,

because it is not protracted by any space; nor past, because it now is

not. What then do I measure? Times passing, not past? for so I said.

Courage, my mind, and press on mightily. God is our helper, He made us,

and not we ourselves. Press on where truth begins to dawn. Suppose, now,

the voice of a body begins to sound, and does sound, and sounds on, and

list, it ceases; it is silence now, and that voice is past, and is

no more a voice. Before it sounded, it was to come, and could not be

measured, because as yet it was not, and now it cannot, because it is

no longer. Then therefore while it sounded, it might; because there then

was what might be measured. But yet even then it was not at a stay; for

it was passing on, and passing away. Could it be measured the rather,

for that? For while passing, it was being extended into some space of

time, so that it might be measured, since the present hath no space. If

therefore then it might, then, lo, suppose another voice hath begun

to sound, and still soundeth in one continued tenor without any

interruption; let us measure it while it sounds; seeing when it hath

left sounding, it will then be past, and nothing left to be measured;

let us measure it verily, and tell how much it is. But it sounds still,

nor can it be measured but from the instant it began in, unto the end

it left in. For the very space between is the thing we measure, namely,

from some beginning unto some end. Wherefore, a voice that is not yet

ended, cannot be measured, so that it may be said how long, or short it

is; nor can it be called equal to another, or double to a single, or the

like. But when ended, it no longer is. How may it then be measured? And

yet we measure times; but yet neither those which are not yet, nor those

which no longer are, nor those which are not lengthened out by some

pause, nor those which have no bounds. We measure neither times to come,

nor past, nor present, nor passing; and yet we do measure times.

"Deus Creator omnium," this verse of eight syllables alternates between

short and long syllables. The four short then, the first, third, fifth,

and seventh, are but single, in respect of the four long, the second,

fourth, sixth, and eighth. Every one of these to every one of those,

hath a double time: I pronounce them, report on them, and find it so,

as one's plain sense perceives. By plain sense then, I measure a long

syllable by a short, and I sensibly find it to have twice so much; but

when one sounds after the other, if the former be short, the latter

long, how shall I detain the short one, and how, measuring, shall I

apply it to the long, that I may find this to have twice so much; seeing

the long does not begin to sound, unless the short leaves sounding? And

that very long one do I measure as present, seeing I measure it not

till it be ended? Now his ending is his passing away. What then is it I

measure? where is the short syllable by which I measure? where the long

which I measure? Both have sounded, have flown, passed away, are no

more; and yet I measure, and confidently answer (so far as is presumed

on a practised sense) that as to space of time this syllable is but

single, that double. And yet I could not do this, unless they were

already past and ended. It is not then themselves, which now are not,

that I measure, but something in my memory, which there remains fixed.

It is in thee, my mind, that I measure times. Interrupt me not, that

is, interrupt not thyself with the tumults of thy impressions. In thee

I measure times; the impression, which things as they pass by cause in

thee, remains even when they are gone; this it is which still present,

I measure, not the things which pass by to make this impression. This

I measure, when I measure times. Either then this is time, or I do not

measure times. What when we measure silence, and say that this silence

hath held as long time as did that voice? do we not stretch out our

thought to the measure of a voice, as if it sounded, that so we may be

able to report of the intervals of silence in a given space of time? For

though both voice and tongue be still, yet in thought we go over poems,

and verses, and any other discourse, or dimensions of motions, and

report as to the spaces of times, how much this is in respect of that,

no otherwise than if vocally we did pronounce them. If a man would utter

a lengthened sound, and had settled in thought how long it should be, he

hath in silence already gone through a space of time, and committing

it to memory, begins to utter that speech, which sounds on, until it be

brought unto the end proposed. Yea it hath sounded, and will sound; for

so much of it as is finished, hath sounded already, and the rest will

sound. And thus passeth it on, until the present intent conveys over

the future into the past; the past increasing by the diminution of the

future, until by the consumption of the future, all is past.

But how is that future diminished or consumed, which as yet is not? or

how that past increased, which is now no longer, save that in the mind

which enacteth this, there be three things done? For it expects, it

considers, it remembers; that so that which it expecteth, through

that which it considereth, passeth into that which it remembereth. Who

therefore denieth, that things to come are not as yet? and yet, there is

in the mind an expectation of things to come. And who denies past things

to be now no longer? and yet is there still in the mind a memory of

things past. And who denieth the present time hath no space, because it

passeth away in a moment? and yet our consideration continueth, through

which that which shall be present proceedeth to become absent. It is not

then future time, that is long, for as yet it is not: but a long future,

is "a long expectation of the future," nor is it time past, which now is

not, that is long; but a long past, is "a long memory of the past."

I am about to repeat a Psalm that I know. Before I begin, my expectation

is extended over the whole; but when I have begun, how much soever of

it I shall separate off into the past, is extended along my memory; thus

the life of this action of mine is divided between my memory as to what

I have repeated, and expectation as to what I am about to repeat; but

"consideration" is present with me, that through it what was future, may

be conveyed over, so as to become past. Which the more it is done again

and again, so much the more the expectation being shortened, is the

memory enlarged: till the whole expectation be at length exhausted, when

that whole action being ended, shall have passed into memory. And this

which takes place in the whole Psalm, the same takes place in each

several portion of it, and each several syllable; the same holds in that

longer action, whereof this Psalm may be part; the same holds in the

whole life of man, whereof all the actions of man are parts; the same

holds through the whole age of the sons of men, whereof all the lives of

men are parts.

But because Thy loving-kindness is better than all lives, behold, my

life is but a distraction, and Thy right hand upheld me, in my Lord the

Son of man, the Mediator betwixt Thee, The One, and us many, many also

through our manifold distractions amid many things, that by Him I may

apprehend in Whom I have been apprehended, and may be re-collected from

my old conversation, to follow The One, forgetting what is behind, and

not distended but extended, not to things which shall be and shall

pass away, but to those things which are before, not distractedly but

intently, I follow on for the prize of my heavenly calling, where I may

hear the voice of Thy praise, and contemplate Thy delights, neither

to come, nor to pass away. But now are my years spent in mourning. And

Thou, O Lord, art my comfort, my Father everlasting, but I have been

severed amid times, whose order I know not; and my thoughts, even

the inmost bowels of my soul, are rent and mangled with tumultuous

varieties, until I flow together into Thee, purified and molten by the

fire of Thy love.

And now will I stand, and become firm in Thee, in my mould, Thy truth;

nor will I endure the questions of men, who by a penal disease thirst

for more than they can contain, and say, "what did God before He made

heaven and earth?" Or, "How came it into His mind to make any thing,

having never before made any thing?" Give them, O Lord, well to

bethink themselves what they say, and to find, that "never" cannot be

predicated, when "time" is not. This then that He is said "never to have

made"; what else is it to say, than "in 'no time' to have made?" Let

them see therefore, that time cannot be without created being, and cease

to speak that vanity. May they also be extended towards those things

which are before; and understand Thee before all times, the eternal

Creator of all times, and that no times be coeternal with Thee, nor any

creature, even if there be any creature before all times.

O Lord my God, what a depth is that recess of Thy mysteries, and how far

from it have the consequences of my transgressions cast me! Heal mine

eyes, that I may share the joy of Thy light. Certainly, if there be mind

gifted with such vast knowledge and foreknowledge, as to know all things

past and to come, as I know one well-known Psalm, truly that mind is

passing wonderful, and fearfully amazing; in that nothing past, nothing

to come in after-ages, is any more hidden from him, than when I sung

that Psalm, was hidden from me what, and how much of it had passed away

from the beginning, what, and how much there remained unto the end. But

far be it that Thou the Creator of the Universe, the Creator of souls

and bodies, far be it, that Thou shouldest in such wise know all things

past and to come. Far, far more wonderfully, and far more mysteriously,

dost Thou know them. For not, as the feelings of one who singeth what he

knoweth, or heareth some well-known song, are through expectation of the

words to come, and the remembering of those that are past, varied,

and his senses divided,--not so doth any thing happen unto Thee,

unchangeably eternal, that is, the eternal Creator of minds. Like then

as Thou in the Beginning knewest the heaven and the earth, without any

variety of Thy knowledge, so madest Thou in the Beginning heaven and

earth, without any distraction of Thy action. Whoso understandeth, let

him confess unto Thee; and whoso understandeth not, let him confess

unto Thee. Oh how high art Thou, and yet the humble in heart are Thy

dwelling-place; for Thou raisest up those that are bowed down, and they

fall not, whose elevation Thou art.